Pralines and Second Lines

Pralines and Second Lines

By Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar

Welcome to the pot, y’all glad you could make it. You just in time. I’m getting ready to handle these pralines before I hit that Second Line, so come on in the kitchen. Let’s get them hands a lil dirty before we go dancing. Don’t worry we gone laugh, we gone talk spirit, and we gone taste a lil sweetness too.

Now, first off, if you don’t know what a praline is, let me bless you real quick. It’s sugar, butter, cream, and pecans cooked slow, like a good story. It’s rich and sweet kinda like that auntie who hug you too tight and tell all your business but still slide you $20 in your palm when she leave. You can’t rush a praline, baby. If you do, the sugar’ll seize, the butter’ll burn, and the whole thing go sideways. Same with life. You rush it, and you get mess instead of magic.

That’s what we here to talk about Divine Timing. You know how it go. You pray, you wait, you fidget, you complain, and then boom when you least expect it, the thing you needed show up like a trumpet at a Second Line. Loud, joyful, and exactly on beat.

But let me tell you somethin’: You can’t second line with just a tambourine. Naw, baby. You need brass. You need rhythm. You need the whole band, and the band don’t start playing ‘til the time is right. That’s how the Creator works. There’s a divine rhythm, a heavenly tempo, and you can’t rush the music. If you step too early, you gone trip over your own feet. You ever tried to dance before the beat drop? Embarrassing, ain’t it?

Same thing with life. Folks be tryna force open doors that ain’t meant to open yet. We want to bake before we gather the ingredients. We ask for blessings but don't wanna follow the recipe. But listen now “A watched pot don’t never boil,” and “Patience can cook a stone.” These are truths passed down in whispers, over kitchen counters and church pews. And baby, they ain’t never lied.

Let me share a lil parable with you.

There was once a young woman in Tremé who dreamed of making the best pralines in the city. She watched her grandmama, learned all the steps, but every time she tried, her batch came out wrong. Either too runny or too hard. She got frustrated, said she wasn’t meant to do it. But her grandmama just smiled and said, “Chile, you can’t make pralines on a hot head and cold spirit. You gotta be just right.”

So the girl waited. She calmed her spirit. She listened to the rhythm of the kitchen the bubbling of the pot, the scent of sugar as it caramelized, the right moment when the mix pulled from the sides of the pan and whispered, “Now.” One day, she got it right. Folk lined up down the block just to taste her sweetness. She didn’t change the recipe; she just trusted the process.

See, that’s how divine timing works. You can’t force it. You got to feel it.

“He who hurries cannot walk with grace,” and grace is what we need in this life. To trust the Creator means to trust that while you’re waiting, you’re not wasting. You’re being stirred, seasoned, refined. Every trial is like a wooden spoon scraping the bottom of your soul, keeping you from burning up. It don’t feel good, but it’s necessary.

Now, I know it ain’t easy. I remember one time I tried to make a batch of pralines for this girl I liked thought I was slick. I rushed the sugar, didn’t let it dissolve, poured it too quick. Ended up with pecan bricks. She laughed so hard she snorted and said, “Well, at least you good-lookin’.” I was embarrassed, but she still kept me company on the porch. Sometimes failure bring sweetness too.

So many of us trying to dance into our blessings before the sugar sets. We get anxious, take shortcuts, settle for less. But the truth is, every good thing takes time. Every blessing has a process. “Even the gumbo gotta simmer,” baby.

There’s a rhythm to the universe, a holy syncopation that don’t play by your clock. The Creator got perfect timing never early, never late. You just gotta learn to sway with the music.

When you surrender to divine timing, something shifts. You stop fighting the current and start floating with it. You find peace in the pauses. You stop asking “when?” and start saying “thank you.” You stop needing all the answers and start enjoying the dance.

And when your moment comes oh, when it comes it’s sweeter than any praline and louder than any brass band. You step out into the street, tambourine in one hand, a smile on your face, and you strut. Because now you understand. The waiting made you ready. The stirring made you strong. The Creator didn’t forget you He was just perfecting the recipe.

So as I stand here stirring this sugar, I think about all the times I wanted something before it was ready. All the times I got ahead of the beat. And I laugh. Because now I know, the pot had to bubble. The butter had to melt. And I had to grow.

Let that praline teach you somethin’. It’s sticky, it’s slow, and it’s oh-so-sweet. Just like life when you let the Divine do the cookin’.

Now come on, the Second Line’s callin’. Let’s put these sweets in a tin, wipe off these hands, and grab our tambourines. The music’s playin’, and this time, we gon’ dance right on beat.

Final word

Wait well. Stir with love. And when it’s your time dance like the whole city’s watchin’.